Sunday, October 28, 2012

From Motivation to Depression

So when I dismissed Vanilla Ice, I was in a phase where I was feeling extremely motivated and ready to go conquer the world. Prior to him I was down in the dumps after my break up with the Puerto Rican man I was seeing. Men had become less of a priority for me as I had the Aquarian at my leisure, and making money was my primary focus. Speaking of the Aquarian, he had turned me out the week before my birthday.  So, I started a toy party company, something I had wanted to do for some time. This line of work was perfect for me as many of my friends put it because of my deep fascination for sex and all things sex related. I was pumped. I was psyched. I was ready to take on the world.

I hosted my launch party. It was lovely, well put together, well attended. How much did homegirl make? Zip. Zero. Nada. I had tears in my eyes.I was so depressed, thinking of my financial loss after all my efforts. I was so miserable I resorted to sex as a comfort measure. I called the last guy I would ever see myself fucking - the Promoter Guy. We met some time ago, about 7 months prior, at his event that I had covered. Since then he had been trying to pursue me, but he was young and rolled with a kind of crowd I would be caught dead hanging out with. Not to mention that the city was too small and I did not want to be seen with a man of his repertoire  But I was hurting, and there was only one thing that could tide me over. Some good old fashioned dick.
 I reluctantly invited him over. I was drunk out of my mind, as I had been drinking all night. We went at it but I was so turned off by him because all he kept talking about was a threesome with me and my girlfriend. Gross! I couldn't wait to get him out of my house. I immediately hit the shower at 5am and scrubbed his essence off my skin and threw my sheets in the wash. I just couldn't stomach the thought of what I'd done.I decided then and there that I'd never make my emotions cause me to sleep with someone I'd be caught dead with in daylight. And it's not like The Promoter Guy was ugly. He was a man of means. He was also in law school. A real ambitious business minded brother, just involved with the wrong crowd. The fast life entertainer type. Money and bitches is all these men have on their minds. I told him that and his response was that he was not every man, and every man was not him. He may be right. I have heard good things about him on the streets from more than one individual. I have since remained friends with him. He calls me occasionally asking to see me again but I ignore his requests.

I went into a deep depression after that. By the time my birthday rolled around a week later I was in such a funk. My girlfriends dragged me out the house and took me to an upscale restaurant and then we hit up one of my favorite clubs after. I was not feeling it. I just wanted to go. It wasn't even 1AM and I was ready to go. I stood outside in the cold and my friends begged me to come back in but I wasn't having it. Usually, we would shut the club down. ALWAYS. But this one time, I just couldn't stand to be around so many people. I was just wallowing in my own misery, and I knew my friends were well meaning but I wanted them to leave me the hell alone.

I went home that night, and woke up sober. That was the first birthday in a while that I did not get drunk. I woke up to a phone call by a man who was courting me online. My mood suddenly shifted.

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